


Place a blade in my hands and point it to your heart

by Starishadow



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Violence, I have too many feels for James and Matthew pls send help, Injury, Parabatai Bond, Please dont ignore warnings and tags, Possession, Self-Harm, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starishadow/pseuds/Starishadow
Summary: «Tell me how to help you», he asked in a heartbeat, taking one step closer and throwing away all common sense.«There’s no way, Math… You can only let me go».Before he could make sense of any of these words, or of why his best friend was hastily pushing one of his favourite knives into his hands, the gold in James’ eyes changed again to a darker shade, his expression empty of any emotion and filled with cruelty.
Relationships: Matthew Fairchild & James Herondale
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Place a blade in my hands and point it to your heart

**Author's Note:**

> I put everything in the tags and warnings, but PLEASE don't read if any of those make you uncomfortable. Also, it wouldn't let me tag it otherwise, but "self harm" here is intended during a battle.

Matthew’s heart stopped in his chest.

His eyes widened as all the air was knocked out of his lungs by the shock.

He could feel himself trembling, his fingers going slack and letting the  _ chalikars _ fall on the ground with a clattering sound as he himself dropped to the floor, his knees hitting the hard pavement of the dark alley he had been standing in.

Defeated.

Helpless.

Broken.

He gasped for air, dark green eyes staring into unmoving, dull golden ones.

And then, realization hit, he felt his heart race up again, blood rushing up to his head and making him dizzy.

«Jamie», he whispered, barely moving his lips, incredulous.

The shadows that had attacked him had dissipated, and what had just been a dark fog where knives were hidden revealed the shape of a boy, a boy he knew all too well.

A boy that showed no signs of recognizing him at all.

He called his name again, too weak to do anything else, too numb to pick up his weapons from the floor and pick himself up.

What was the point of standing up, if that meant he’d have to stand up against James?

«Surprised, little Nephilim?».

The voice coming out of his  _ parabatai’s _ mouth was wrong. It was cold, ancient, bored, it held nothing of Jamie’s softness and warmth. Even the smile on his lips, it was twisted, cruel, it was a smirk, and there was no sign of the dimples that always helped him understand whether Jamie’s smile was genuine or not.

It was not James standing in front of him, but a monster, a monster that had stolen his skin, his face, his soul. It made Matthew’s heart boil and he gritted his teeth, strength returning to his limbs.

His fingers brushed the cold metal of his  _ chalikars  _ before he picked them up and jumped up, running towards the other, spinning them around his fingers and ready to throw them.

That’s when James’ head snapped up, and his eyes met his, filled with surprise and betrayal.

«Math?».

Stopping the weapon with his palm cut his flesh, but he didn’t care. James hissed and cradled his own hand to his chest.

Tears gathered at the corner of Matthew’s eyes as he stood closer to his  _ parabatai _ .

«Jamie? Is that you?», he asked quietly, and sorrow and guilt flashed in the other’s eyes as he nodded.

«He’s playing with me, Math. He’s playing like a cat plays with the mouse», he said quietly, his voice strained.

Matthew hated that he knew. He had always known, deep down, something was terribly wrong with James… He had felt him fading, had felt his emotions and feelings die down one by one, cold filling his chest inch by inch.

But Matthew had been too focused on his own pain, on his own cold, to recognize those were his  _ parabatai _ ’s feelings and not his own.

It was James dying, not his heart.

«Tell me how to help you», he asked in a heartbeat, taking one step closer and throwing away all common sense.

James flinched away from him, a haunted look in his eyes; as usual, he was the rational one.

When he shook his head, Matthew’s heart sunk into his stomach as the overwhelming feeling that always crashed over him whenever he sensed James fading into the shadows suddenly came back.

This time was no different, he realized, a bitter taste in the back of his tongue: James was still fading out of his reach, in a world where he couldn’t follow, in shadows he couldn’t save him from.

«James, please, there has to be something!», he urged, fearing the moment Belial decided to stop playing and take back control over his grandson.

«There’s no way, Math… You can only let me go».

Before he could make sense of any of these words, or of why his best friend was hastily pushing one of his favourite knives into his hands, the gold in James’ eyes changed again to a darker shade, his expression empty of any emotion and filled with cruelty.

An explosion of air pushed Matthew back and slammed him against a wall, and a humourless laugh echoed through his ringing fingers as he pushed himself up once again.

«I was so merciful to give you time to say goodbye, and you didn’t even take your chance», he said, walking closer, shadows crawling at his feet. He lashed out again, but this time Matthew dodged it, running towards him and throwing one of his  _ chalikars _ . It missed, and Belial laughed as the weapon hit the ground, leaving an indent.

«Wasting your blows like that? Seems like my grandson didn’t have that much taste for a fighting partner».

That was probably the only truth that had come out of Belial’s mouth, Matthew thought bitterly.

James had made a terrible decision the day he had chosen him as his  _ parabatai _ .

Lucie was right, she had always been right.

He was in no condition to save him.

_ “I’m afraid you’ll get my brother killed” _ , she had said, her voice still loud and clear in the back of his mind.

“I’m afraid this is even worse, Lu”, he mused, dodging another blow of air and shadows. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to bring him back to you anymore”.

He had always been able to win against James during training. He knew his weaknesses, he knew where to hit. He knew Jamie’s body like his own, and he loved every inch of it… That was the greatest problem.

He wouldn’t dare raising one finger against his  _ parabatai _ , even if that meant death for himself, and Belial knew it perfectly well.

He might as well just put down his weapons and let him win, he was about to do so, when the light weight of James’ knife grounded him, as if the other was holding his hand and reminding him  _ what _ he was fighting for.

He knew that blade, he had gifted it to James years ago, and no matter how many daggers the boy lost in a fight – much to Christopher’s distress – he would always make sure to get that one back.

He had given it to Matthew only a few seconds before Belial took over him again.

“Let me go”.

A wave of nausea almost made him stumble as he understood what James had meant.

“You’re an idiot, James Herondale, if you believe I’ll be able to do that!”, he screamed into his mind, his eyes wild and scared like a caged animal’s.

That knife in his hands was the answer to his question, it was a permission and a request in itself.

“Let me go”,  _ free me _ .

But how could James be so selfish and ask  _ that _ of Matthew?!

Belial seemed to be taking his time, enjoying the distress his opponent was in. He didn’t seem that eager to deliver the final blow.

_ Playing like the cat with the mouse _ .

«He’s watching, you know?».

Disgust was painted all over Matthew’s face at that, his teeth bared as an inhuman growl escaped his throat. How dared he?

«He has been watching all this time. Every Shadowhunter I killed, he saw that. And he’ll see it when I finally take your life with his own hands».

_ How dared he _ put his Jamie through all of that?

James, who was so caring. James who believed that Shadowhunters’ duty was to protect others. James who would _give_ _himself up_ to keep others safe.

This time, when he lunged forward, he did not hesitate. He held the  _ chalikram _ , without throwing it, and aimed for the right shoulder, but Belial moved at a higher speed than James could ever use and moved out of the way, a low whistle mocking him.

«Wow, you’d really do that to your Jamie?».

Fury made red spots explode behind Matthew’s eyes, he didn’t even bother screaming at him to shut up, to not use that name, he just lashed out again and again, and every time the demon would laugh and step away, sometimes hitting him or sending him flying away.

He stopped after a while, breathless and sore but still mad with anger.

Belial’s face was still perfectly relaxed, his breath even, his hands crossed behind his back.

Matthew  _ hated _ seeing him have James behave so unlike himself.

«Oh, he’s so hurt… his dearest  _ parabatai _ , the better half of his soul… out for his blood. Heartbreaking».

“ _ He’s bluffing _ ”, a voice mumbled right from inside Matthew’s heart, all the way to his brain. A voice he couldn’t mistake for another.

James.

He knew Belial was bluffing because nobody knew James’ feelings better than  _ him _ .

The Prince of Hell might have interfered with their bond and made it harder for him to tell James’ feelings apart, but now there was one he could recognize well, one he could feel in his own mouth.

_ Faith _ .

James believed in him, James was encouraging him.

And he was reminding him their bond was still there, in the good and the bad.

And so, Matthew unsheathed his  _ parabatai _ ’s knife, smiling triumphantly.

Belial merely raised an eyebrow.

«You think you’re going to have better luck with another weapon?».

Matthew smiled a twisted smile that could rival Belial’s as he balanced the weapon in his hand.

«I will», he said, calmly, coldly. He knew what he had to do now, he would no longer attack in blind anger and play his stupid game. «Of all the Princes of Hell, you’re the one who’s most fascinated by humans. You were banned from walking the human land because you were the one who loved humans most».

Belial seemed unimpressed:

«You’ve been doing your homework, little angel spawn, so what?».

Matthew’s smile became wicked.

«You love humans, but you’ll never be able to understand us. The things we’d do for fear, for greed, for anger, for jealousy, for hatred», he paused, lifting his chin up as his eyes turned to steel. He held tightly onto James’ knife as he raised it, enjoying every second of Belial’s confusion and alarm. «For love», he concluded, lowering the blade and digging it into his shoulder and clenching his teeth as he pulled the blade out and stabbed it into his arm, then his legs, his other shoulder. He didn’t stop to feel the pain, he didn’t pay attention to the blood, he only heard Belial’s screams as pain soared through the  _ parabatai _ bond.

Matthew knew that if he stabbed his own heart, he would cause a greater damage, but he also knew he couldn’t do  _ that _ to James.

He only needed to weaken Belial, to show him his plan had a great flaw.

He had underestimated how deep his and James’ bond ran, and now he’d pay the consequences.

He kept his breathing under control, forcing himself not to wheeze nor hyperventilate, there’d be time for pain, but not now.

Belial fell to his knees as Matthew pushed the knife right under his right hip, hating himself for all the pain he was causing to James’ body.

«You chose Jamie as your vessel», he panted through gritted teeth, ignoring the profanities the demon was screaming at him. «But Jamie’s body has one fatal flaw», he added, his vision swimming in front of his eyes as sweat soaked his face and clothes. He didn’t have much time before collapsing. «It’s linked to mine. Y-You can either leave him and find another way to fight, or we can go on like this for the whole night».

Another cut, another stab, his hands were shaking, and his fingers were slippery because of all the blood, but he didn’t allow them to drop the knife.

He probably looked like a madman, and maybe he was delirious from the pain, but he swore he could see a new type of fear dance in Belial’s eyes.

«You will be damned for this», he eventually whispered, and a dark fog raised from James’ body, dissipating in the air.

James slumped forward as Matthew finally dropped to the ground with a thud and a low groan. Adrenaline had left his body, and all he could feel was pain, pain,  _ pain _ .

He could no longer remember how to breathe, he could only wheeze on the cold, dirty stone, soaked in his own blood, tears streaming down his face.

Panic took over him, but it wasn’t his.

« _ Math _ ».

Gentle hands were on his shoulders, turning him on his back.

He whimpered, eyes squeezed shut and hands weekly pressed against the wound on his hip.

«By the Angel, Matthew».

He no longer knew if the tears he was crying were because of the pain, or because of James’ warm, soothing presence all around him.

He felt gentle hands lift his arm and then the familiar burn and sting of a rune being drawn on him, and then another on his shoulder, on the other, down on the other arm… He lost count of all the runes James was drawing on him.

All he knew, was that Jamie was back, and he kept calling his name as he cured him, rune after rune.

He felt strength being passed to him and held on to it, the shared force of  _ parabatai _ being the only thing keeping him from slipping away.

His heartbeat was erratic, but the steady rhythm in which James was saying “Math” felt like a second pulse, pushing life through his veins and into his broken body.

«Don’t you dare leaving me».

James’ voice broke, and Matthew’s heart with him.

He had tried his best not to hit any vital part, but it had taken longer than he had planned, and the blood loss he had put his body through was way more severe than he probably could afford.

But he couldn’t die in Jamie’s arms right after bringing him back.

He couldn’t let his  _ parabatai _ alone, crying in a dirty alley.

He clung tighter to the strength James was giving him, and to the leather of the other’s gear.

He felt more runes being put on him, and the pain began to fade. He just wasn’t sure it was a good thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

«Hang in there, Math, for me?».

He smiled, finally opening his eyes and glancing tiredly at James, finally noticing the tears in his eyes and the blood on his hands as he kept drawing  _ amissio _ runes and  _ iratzes _ with desperate determination.

«Anything, for you», he breathed out, and for a moment he saw James’ eyes soften as they met his. Then, the dark haired boy shook his head and went back to work, Matthew let his head fall back on the ground, looking at the starry sky over them.

He had imagined, sometimes, during his darkest moments, what kind of death would await for him.

He had wished to die under a starry sky, if he had to.

But he realized that, right now, he had no intention to. There were still things he needed to say, needed to see, needed to  _ do _ .

He couldn’t leave James broken and unprotected.

«If you die, I’m coming right after you», James threatened, but his voice was weak, as if he didn’t believe in it himself.

Matthew knew the threat was real, James  _ would _ follow him to the other world if he died, that wasn’t what made him uncertain. It was the thought of “do I have the right to say this?” that made him hesitant.

Of course James wouldn’t blame Matthew for  _ almost _ dying for him, not after he had implicitly asked him to  _ kill him _ .

«No dying tonight», he assured weakly, taking a tentative deep breath and sighing in relief when his chest didn’t burn as much as it did before. «Whatever you’re doing, it’s working».

James nodded in silence and kept going until there was no more room on Matthew’s skin for any other rune, but by then he noticed the other’s eyes were open and steady enough to assure him he wouldn’t die on the journey to the Institute. He gathered him into his arms and stood up, only stumbling once and readjusting his grip on the other.

«Oh wow, now I understand why Cordelia tends to get hurt a lot around you», Matthew snorted, but still curled up a bit against his chest. James rolled his eyes, but silently thanked any deity in the sky that Matthew was still alive and well enough to crack up dumb jokes.

«If you want me to carry you bridal style, you could just ask, without giving me a heart attack», he huffed, then broke into a sprint towards the Institute, trying not to panic when, a few minutes later, he felt Matthew go slack in his arms.

He could still feel him breathe, and most importantly, his rune was still strong and steady on his back, so he knew the other had probably just succumbed to exhaustion, but he still ran a bit faster.

Better safe than sorry.

«Math?», he called tentatively. «Don’t fall asleep».

A tired hum was the only reply and he nudged him gently.

«I know you’re tired, but just stay with me a little longer, alright?».

A huff.

«Talk to me?», he suggested, taking a shortcut that hopefully would get them to the Institute saving precious minutes.

This time, he finally got an answer, a small “alright” mumbled against his neck.

«Why didn’t you just kill me?».

Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes, fighting off the sleep and trying not to slur as he replied:

«You trusted me».

«Yeah, I trusted you to do  _ the right thing _ ».

But Matthew just shook his head, stubbornly.

«No, you _ trusted _ me. With the blade». He knew he could be more eloquent than this, but sleep was so tempting now…

James frowned, but then he finally understood what his best friend was telling him, and he felt fondness and exasperation at the same time. He shook his head as they turned a corner and finally the Institute came into sight.

_ Trust. It is like placing a blade in someone's hand and setting the very point to your heart. _

«I put the blade into your hand», he commented, and Matthew nodded, almost unnoticeably, and sighed contently as he nuzzled his neck.

«And I didn’t stab your heart».

James couldn’t help but huff out a small laughter as he pushed the doors of his house open and screamed for help.

«You are an idiot, Matthew Fairchild».

«But you owe me your life. Now let me sleep, you annoying scoundrel».

It would take him four days to wake up again, but when he did, he was met with relieved golden eyes with dark purple circles under them, and a dimpled smile so bright it could rival the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm literally exploding with theories and headcanons for James and Matthew in the next books, and I'm also working on a Heronchild longfic rn!  
> Please let me know what you thought of this, and if you'd like, come say hi to me on Twitter: @Fairdale_  
> I haven't reread this yet, so if you see anything wrong, please let me know!  
> Take care and be safe!  
> Love,
> 
> Starishadow


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